Big Mac reads something purple
by Shagbark
Summary: Twilight asks Big MacIntosh to read to the Cutie Mark Crusaders while she runs an errand. He's not much of a reader, but he just can't say nope to Twilight.
1. The smartest mare in the world

There was a knock on the library door. Twilight and the three fillies stopped talking and looked up. "Hold on, girls," Twilight said, and went to answer the door.

A big red stallion stood on the doorstep. "Hi, Big Macintosh!" she said. He said nothing, just looked into her eyes a moment, then looked away and chewed a little faster on the wisp of straw in his mouth.

"Apple Bloom!" Twilight called. "Your brother is here to pick you up."

"Aw, Mac!" Apple Bloom protested. "Do I hafta leave already?"

"Nope," Big Mac said, stepping into the library. He went over to a corner of the room and sat down to wait, watching Twilight and the fillies.

"Oh!" Twilight said. "Big Macintosh, if you don't mind, can you watch the girls for a bit while I trot on over to the Mayor's? I said I'd give her my comments on her speech for tomorrow's Science Day celebration."

"I... reckon," he said.

"I know! Why don't you read them a story?"

Big Mac stopped chewing on his straw. "Read?"

"A story. Something nice."

"Bleah!" Scootaloo interjected. "Something exciting!"

"But not too exciting," Twilight added.

"Something romantic!" Sweetie Belle said.

"But not too romantic," Twilight added.

Apple Bloom frowned at Twilight. "Somethin' responsible an' boring," she said.

"But not too... heh. You got me, Apple Bloom. I'll be back in a jiffy. Thanks so much, Big Mac!" There was a scroll already neatly tied and waiting on a shelf by the door, and she wrapped it in a purple magic glow and headed out the door.

Big Mac looked at the three fillies staring back at him. He turned and looked at the books surrounding him, row after row, and then back at the fillies.

"So are ya gonna read us a story?" Apple Bloom asked. "You've never read me a story before."

Big Mac walked over to the nearest bookshelf. He brought his head up close to the books lined up there, and his lips moved slowly as he scrutinized the words written on the bindings. Then he carefully bit down on a tall, thin book with a bright lavender cover. He carried it to a table and set the book respectfully down onto it.

"Whatcha got?" Apple Bloom asked.

"A book."

"What kinda book?"

"A purple one."

Sweetie Belle giggled. "You're funny, Big Mac. What's it about?"

Big Mac wiped his hoof off on his flank, then carefully opened the cover and began turning the pages. He stared down at the words, focusing intently on them. He looked up at the fillies, who were waiting expectantly. He looked down at the book again, and sighed.

"Ain't ya gonna read it?" Apple Bloom asked plaintively.

"Yup," he said, setting his mouth in a determined line. He sat down behind the table. "It says, this here's the story of the smartest mare in the world."

"You mean in Equestria?" Scootaloo asked.

"Wouldn't that be Princess Celestia?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Ah'm just sayin' what it says here," Big Mac declared. "Says she was the smartest mare in the world, an' knew just about everything. Why, if she didn't know it, it probably weren't worth knowin'."

"Where was she?" asked Apple Bloom.

He peered at the book again. "Says, she lived in a big city with lots of other smart ponies, an' studied magic, because she was a unicorn."

"Ooh! Was it Canterlot?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Well," he said, "it says here it had streets all made of stone, so they never got muddy, an' the streets were full of carriages with real enamel paint on 'em, and the carriages were full of fancy-dressed ponies goin' to fancy dress-up balls. It says, it had snooty rich ponies an' poor working ponies what had lost their farms, all livin' pushed up against each other like apples in a barrel."

"Sounds like Canterlot," Apple Bloom said.

"But this mare," he said slowly, "she didn't care nothin' about the fancy dresses nor the fancy carriages nor the fancy balls. She read and studied all day, and then she'd light a candle and read and study some more."

"Bo-ring," Scootaloo said.

Big Mac's ears rose sharply, but he just kept reading. "One day, she'd read all the books in the city -"

"Nopony could read all the books in Canterlot!" Apple Bloom objected. "There are thousands an' thousands of them!"

"Says who?" Big Mac demanded.

"Twilight!"

Big Mac considered this. "Well," he said, "if Twilight knows how many books are in Canterlot, she must've seen them all. Ain't that right?"

"I guess," Apple Bloom said.

"And you ever seen Twilight see a book, an' not read it?"

"No," she admitted.

"That proves it, then," Big Mac said. "An' so, once this pony had read all the books in the city, and learned everthing there was to learn there, she went to a little city to see what they knew there. An' they didn't know a lot, but she liked it anyway, and stayed there."

"The end," Scootaloo said. "Now read something exciting."

"And romantic!" Sweetie Belle added.

"You keep your hooves on the ground," Big Mac said. "This story's got monsters, an' magic, and all that kinda stuff."

"And romance?" Sweetie Belle asked.

Big Macintosh blushed slightly. "I don't rightly know about that."

"Of course there's no romance!" Scootaloo said. "Who's going to fall in love with an egghead?"

Big Mac clopped his hoof on the table. It made a very loud sound in the library. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. He cleared his throat. "It says here, there was a fella who was sweet on her. Prob'ly lots of fellas."

"It says all that on the first page?" Apple Bloom asked, stepping up to get a closer look.

Big Mac turned the page. "It says how once there was a dragon that took to flying over the town and scaring everypony, not a nice one like Spike but a big, mean-lookin one, with claws like plow teeth, and teeth like... bigger plow teeth. An' she rounded up her friends an' went off after it, even though she was just a little thing."

"Sweet!" Scootaloo said.

"What about the romance?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Ah said ah don't know about no romance!" Big Mac said.

"You said there was a feller who was sweet on her," Apple Bloom said.

"Ah only read that part because you pestered me about it," Big Mac replied.

"Whattya mean?" Scootaloo demanded. "It's a story. You start at the beginning and read until you get to the end."

"I don't see why," Big Mac said, "when I've got this big ol' story spreadin' out all over the place."

"What about the fellow who was sweet on her?" Sweetie Belle insisted.

"Probably another egghead," Scootaloo said.

"He weren't no egghead," Big Mac said. "He was... a bricklayer. He was a big fella, and pulled big loads of brick around, and spent all day stacking them up in rows, neat as a honeycomb."

"Well, that's silly," Sweetie Belle said. "Why would they fall in love? How would they even know each other?"

Big Mac frowned, and considered this obstacle for several moments. "It was a small town, and everypony knew everypony else," he finally said. "Everypony liked her, on account of her bein' smart, but real helpful-like, instead of snooty. She was a solid worker, just like him. Reliable. They'd both work from sunup 'til past sunset. An' she was brave. She could stand up in front of a big crowd of ponies and talk and talk, an' even tell 'em what to do, an' never be afraid of soundin' stupid. An' everypony would listen to her, even the mayor."

"So that's why he liked her," Sweetie Belle said. "But why would she like him?"

Big Mac blinked at the book. He turned a few pages. "Well," he finally admitted, "Ah don't rightly know."

"I don't buy it!" Scootaloo said. "The smartest mare in the world wouldn't marry a bricklayer."

"They don't have to get married," Sweetie Belle said. She looked up airly, and clapped her front hooves together. "She could fall for his great, brawny muscles, and they could have a passionate fling!"

"This story ain't nothin' like that!" Big Mac spluttered.

"It seems like a stretch," Apple Bloom said. "Why, it would be like if you hitched up with Twilight!" All three of the fillies giggled mightily at this, and Scootaloo lay down and slapped one wing on the floor repeatedly. Big MacIntosh didn't seem to see the humor at first, but after a bit he grinned weakly along with them.

Their laughter was interrupted by Rarity, who had come to pick up Sweetie Belle. She scraped her hooves daintily on the mat and came in. "Why, Big MacIntosh," she said, craning her neck forward to verify that the big stallion was, in fact, sitting in front of a book. "Are you reading the girls a humorous story?"

"Ah'm afraid so, Miss Rarity. Come on, Apple Bloom. There's work to do. Ah've been here too long already." He closed the book carefully. "Ah'm, ah'm sorry it was such a silly story, kids."

"Oh, that's okay, big brother!" Apple Bloom said. "It was nice to do something together."

"Yeah," Scootaoo said, "it was fun to listen to you read. You've got a funny way of doing it."

Big Mac just chewed on his straw a little more vigorously, and didn't say anything else. Everypony left the library and headed their separate ways.

Sometime later, Twilight returned, and found the lavender-colored book still lying on the table. She read the title. "Hmm! I didn't think there was anypony else in this town who'd be interested in neuroponynomic theory."

She thought, as she picked it up and returned it to its proper place, that perhaps somepony new in town - some young stallion, perhaps - had been there, reading it, but had been unable to check it out because he didn't have a library card. Perhaps he would return for it tomorrow. "Oh, have you read Padoa-Cloppa?" she'd ask casually. "Why, no," he'd say. "Do tell me about it." She pushed some of the books on that shelf and pulled on others, humming quietly to herself, until they were all flush with each other again.


	2. Alternate ending

Sometime later, Twilight returned, and found the lavender-colored book still lying on the table. She read the title. "Hmm! I didn't think there was anypony else in this town who'd be interested in neuroponynomic theory."

She wondered what story Big Mac had decided to read to the fillies. She wasn't worried - Big Mac was such a gentle and respectful soul that he wouldn't read anything himself that was inappropriate for the girls. And he was so sensitive, and so attentive to the little foals, he would figure out quickly enough what they liked and didn't like. He could probably be a good storyteller, if somepony could get him to talk. But she realized she had no idea what sort of stories he liked - and she wished she did. It was just one more mystery about the silent giant.

She sighed as she returned _Theoretical Research in Neurponynomic Decision-Making_ to its proper place on the shelf. She could understand almost all of the equations in it, but that wouldn't impress a practical pony like Big Mac. He probably wouldn't even remember her name if she weren't a friend of his sister.

She didn't understand why any of her friends liked her - all she had to offer was facts and insights about things that didn't interest them. Nopony had really liked her in Canterlot. Now they did. Which meant she might stop being likeable at any moment, and left friendless, without ever understanding why. So she studied harder, because that was all she knew how to do.

But that was surely what was best - to keep doing what she was doing, and not take any chances. She just wasn't good at personal relationships. She bit her lip, and tried to forget all that, and focus on the task at hand, pushing some of the books on that shelf, and pulling on others, until they were all flush with each other again.


	3. Alternate ending to the alternate ending

Twilight passed them on her way back, and stepped inside only moments after they had left. She saw the lavender-colored book still lying on the table. She picked it up, wondering what story Big Mac had decided to read to the fillies. She wasn't worried - Big Mac was such a gentle and respectful soul that he wouldn't read anything himself that was inappropriate for the girls. And he was so sensitive, and so attentive to the little foals, he would figure out quickly enough what they liked and didn't like. He could probably be a good storyteller, if somepony could get him to talk. But she realized she had no idea what sort of stories he liked - and she wished she did. It was just one more mystery about the silent giant.

But she would probably never know. It wasn't like she could be the pony to draw him out. What would she say? "Oh, Big Mac, do you think you could stay a moment and help me recalibrate my astrolabe?" "Oh, Big Mac, I'm going to City Hall to listen to the Mayor's budget proposal - doesn't that sound exciting?"

Right.

She turned the book over to look at the title, and did a double-take: _Theoretical Research in Neurponynomic Decision-Making_. Big Mac certainly wasn't reading that to the girls. And for Rarity to have been reading it - well, that was even less likely.

"Hello?" she called out. "Is anypony else here?"

She went to the door and looked out to see if she'd missed anypony on their way out of the library. No; the streets were empty. But she noticed a canvas sack, hidden behind a bush. Had someone left it there for her? Then why hide it?

She took the sack inside, and debated whether to open it. It wasn't really hers. This wasn't just her home, after all; it was also a public library. Anypony might have left something outside the door momentarily. But if she opened it, she might be able to figure out whose it was.

She loosened the drawstring - it was the simple kind favored by pegasi and earth ponies - and drew the contents out. A box of nails, two iron brackets of some kind - and Mister Smarty Pants.

She shook her head, and blinked. Mister Smarty Pants was still there, staring up at her from the table with his one good button eye.

She'd never found him after that awful business with the tardy friendship report. Was somepony secretly returning him? But why the nails and the brackets?

Just then the door burst open, and Big Mac's head poked in. He was snorting and sweating, as if he'd run all the way there from the farm.

"Miss Twilight!" he said. "Have you seen a canvas sack..." Then he saw the doll and the book on the table before her, and his eyes grew big, and he shut up immediately.

"Big MacIntosh. Did you... have my doll, all this time?"

The big stallion cringed at the question, and looked down at the floor, shamefaced. He nodded.

"Why?"

He looked behind him, at the light streaming in through the door, as though contemplating escape. But he didn't escape; he just stood there, not meeting Twilight's eyes. "Because it was yours," he said miserably.

Now it was Twilight's eyes that widened. Maybe she misunderstood him. Maybe he meant, he was holding onto it to return it to her.

She nodded towards the book. "You can't read, can you?"

Big Macintosh looked up, and Twilight saw a tear in his eye, and another thing that she'd never seen there - anger. "Please, Miss Twilight," he said. "If'n you don't mind, just give me my sack, an' I'll leave."

Oh, no. She'd said the wrong thing. She hoisted the sack unwillingly, and thought as she brought it towards them that once he had it, he'd never speak to her again. Then an idea struck her.

"Would you like to learn?" she asked.

He lifted his head, and looked into her eyes, ignoring the sack suspended in the air between them. He nodded once.

"Come over here," she said. "Let me find something a little easier for us to start with." She shut the door behind him as he came inside.


End file.
